Visitors are also going to get to witness a rare treat: "My little bees", Colletes thoracicus, are actively nest-building in the garden right now. Most years, they would be finished by now, not to be seen until April of the next year. If we're lucky, we will also get to see the Nomada sp. cuckoo bees I just noticed in my garden for the first time this year.

2015-05-09

I had a visceral (in a good way) reaction to Adrian Higgins' writeup of a visit, with Claudia West, to Shenk's Ferry Wildflower Preserve.

I think I'll adopt "ecological horticulturist" to describe my own approach to gardening. Whether you specialize in gardening with native plants, as I do, or prefer to grow plants from around the world, studying their native habitats is, in my experience, the best way to learn how to grow them in a garden.

That doesn't mean you have to recreate the conditions exactly. In many cases, this is impossible, anyway. The native Aquilegia canadensis, eastern red columbine, thrives in the crumbling mortar of my front steps; this location recreates some aspects of the face of a limestone cliff where I saw, decades ago, a huge colony of them in full bloom.

This is why I'm trying to go on more botanical walks and hikes. Like many, if not most, gardeners, I've never seen most of the plants I grow in the wild. I visited Hempstead Plains for the first time in August 2013.

That inspired me last year to remove most of the remaining lawn in the front yard and approach it as a meadow, instead.

Rain gardens and rock gardens are both examples of creating gardens to grow plants requiring specific conditions, and to meet human needs. But we don't need to go to so much trouble. For all the "problem areas" in our gardens, there are plants that want nearly exactly those conditions. We need only think like a plant to see these as opportunities, and embrace the habitats waiting to emerge.

2015-05-03

A species new to me that I picked up at yesterday's plant sale for the Manhattan Chapter of the North American Rock Garden Society (MCNARGS). Since I don't know anything about it, I researched it to figure out what it wants and find a place for it in my garden.

Adlumia fungosa, climbing fumitory, scrambling into Clethra in the backyard in July 2015

Adlumia fungosa is a biennial vine in the Fumariaceae, the fumewort family, or Papaveraceae, poppy family, depending on the accepted taxonomy. It can grow up to 12 feet in length by scrambling over other plants and rocks in the moist, wooded slopes it requires. Common names include allegheny vine, climbing fumitory, and mountain fringe.

Its primary native range is New England and northeastern United States. Following the mountains, its range extends as far south and west as Tennessee and North Carolina. It's also found in scattered counties as far west as Minnesota and Iowa.

Biota of North America Program (BONAP) floristic synthesis county-level distribution map for Adlumia fungosa. In this map, yellow and light green highlights counties where specimens have been recorded. Dark green shows state-/province-level nativity.

Although not native to New York City, it is native to adjacent and nearby counties in NY, New Jersey, and Connecticut. The New York Flora Association (NYFA) Atlas lists its endangered/threatened status as as S4: Apparently secure in New York State. Other sources, including the New England Wildflower Society (NEWFS), list it as threatened or endangered throughout its range.

I'm going to try this plant on the north side of my garage. That area is consistently moist from runoff from the garage roof. There's no slope there, but it's densely planted with shrubs and perennials, so this plant should have lots to scramble over. If it's really happy, there's also the nearby arbor.

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About Me

I moved to New York City, to the East Village, in 1979. I started city gardening soon thereafter. I moved to Brooklyn in 1992. I now make my home and garden in Flatbush, Brooklyn (USDA Hardiness Zone 7b, AHS Heat Zone 5).